Free Fall
by GuidexYouxHome
Summary: Five times Irina Derevko found herself falling.
1. Part 1

**A/N: So, this is just a little story I came up with centering around Irina. It'll be broken up into five parts, all of which will be short and sweet. The first of these takes place when Irina is eighteen. I apologize if she seems a bit OOC, but keep in mind that she hasn't been recruited by the KGB yet. She hasn't been exposed to the life of a spy, or the manipulation that comes with it. In a word, she's innocent—but she'll change into the crazy criminal we all know and love as the story progresses ;).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alias. At all. If I did, it would definitely still be on the air!**

_The Time She Fell into a Tangled Web_

Eighteen-year old Irina Derevko thought she knew exactly what she was going to do with her life. And she was always willing to tell anyone who would listen to her.

"A school teacher?" Her advisor looked up from her paper, his eyes narrowed skeptically. Irina wasn't discouraged. She lifted her chin, flashed him a proud smile, and nodded.

"Yes. A school teacher."

The advisor made a tiny note on one of his charts. "I see…and what is it you're interested in teaching, Miss Derevko?"

"English." Irina answered promptly.

"English?"

"Yes."

"Here in Russia?"

"As a second language, yes." She answered once again, her head tilted slightly to one side. She certainly wasn't oblivious to the advisor's wary tone, but she wasn't quite sure why he was taking this attitude with her. Wasn't it his job to encourage her?

He stared at her through his thick-rimmed glasses, looking serious. "Your language skills are very impressive. Your English is nearly perfect, and I hear you're very fluent in German as well."

"I'm learning French, too." Irina beamed, unable to keep from boasting. In the strict, straight-forward environment she'd grown up in, it wasn't often that she received praise for the things she did.

"You're very intelligent, Miss Derevko. Apart from your language skills, you are excellent at retaining information, thinking on your feet…manipulating others. Your results tell us all of this." But then the advisor hesitated. "And you have never considered…doing something _more _with your talents?" He inquired carefully.

Irina's smile lessened slightly. She wasn't quite sure what to make of this last comment. "You don't think teaching is an honorable occupation?" It was more of an accusation than a question, a tone that suggested she was about to go off on one of her infamous, self-righteous rants. "You think it's silly to want to help people grow and learn and—and change? My mother was a teacher, and it was one of the most rewarding experiences of her life!"

The advisor, slightly alarmed that the young woman before him had taken such a defensive stance, cleared his throat. "I did not mean to imply that your ambition is foolish." He said in a patronizing tone that did nothing to soothe Irina's irritation. "I only meant that the qualities you possess…the extent of your talents…makes you very special. You could do incredible things, Miss Derevko. You _could_ help people."

There was a very loaded pause after he finished speaking, in which Irina stared at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Without answering immediately, the advisor stood up. Purposefully, he walked towards the door and clicked the lock shut. He then made his way over to the room's only window and drew the blinds closed. Feeling Irina tense at this, he turned back to face her.

"I am offering you the chance to serve your country." He said, very softly. "I am offering you a chance to leave your mark on the world, a chance to protect everything you stand for…I am offering you a position in the KGB."

Irina simply gaped at him, half-convinced that she had heard him wrong. The government was interested in recruiting _her_, of all people? This had to be a trick. An elaborate joke, perhaps. She suddenly became intensely suspicious of the man before her, and wondered what his real motives were. "Mr. Baikov…"

"_Agent _Baikov." He corrected her. "I am working here under the cover of a student counselor because it places me in an ideal position to watch for potential KGB recruits. Rarely have I come across a profile that fits our standards as well as yours does." He smiled at her for the first time as he said this.

In all honesty, Irina didn't know what to say. She found herself stumbling over words, searching for some kind of response to give. "I…I don't think you understand. I'm not cut out to be a—a spy, or whatever it is you're asking—"

"On the contrary," Mr. Baikov interrupted. "We very much believe that you are." When Irina was silent, her continued on. "Very few are offered such a chance to serve their country. It is an honor. You would be considered a hero."

Upon hearing this word, Irina drew a breath. His words were stirring ambition deep within her. Growing up, she'd always been the quiet one. She liked to read and tended to keep to herself—and being the youngest of her sisters, she'd always felt that her elder siblings outshined her in most respects. Elena had always been smarter than her, and Katya more popular. Irina had spent most of her childhood blending in. Becoming invisible.

But now that she admitted it to herself, she had always wanted so much _more _than that. She'd always felt that she could _give _more. Accepting this offer would be doing exactly that. It would be taking care of herself; it was a chance to be admired and looked up to by her people.

She hesitated still, gazing at Mr. Baikov with uncertainty. Could this be real? It still felt like a dream.

"It wouldn't be easy, of course." He said to her, as if he were reading her mind. "You would need to go through months of training. Some don't have what it takes to make it through. But if I didn't believe you had it, I wouldn't have approached you with this in the first place. One more thing, Irina." Calling her by her first name for the first time, he pulled a small slip of paper out of his jacket pocket. "You have so much to offer the KGB…but we have much to offer you as well. The name on that paper is the key to more greatness than you could ever imagine."

Irina took the paper when it was offered to her, unfolded it, and read the single name that was scrawled there:

_Milo Rambaldi_

The name seemed somehow significant. She couldn't explain it, but as she repeated the name aloud, there was something about the way it slipped from her lips that drew her to this Milo Rambaldi.

It was this spark of curiosity that sealed the deal. How was she to know that this single commitment, this flicker of interest she bore, would be the start of the obsession that would ultimately be her undoing?

_This is the chance of a lifetime._ It was what Katya used to say right before she'd drag her younger sister off on some mischievous childhood scheme.

Irina looked back into the eyes of Mr. Baikov, and a smile graced her features.

"When do I begin?"


	2. Part 2

**A/N: So, here's part two. It should please all you J/I shippers, because it takes place after Irina has begun her KGB mission in America, and she and Jack have been together for some time. WARNING: This chapter is most likely going to be EXTREMELY fluffy. xD**

_The Time She Fell in Love_

Several years had past since the KGB first recruited her, but to Irina it felt like another lifetime. She had learned things that made her see the world in a completely different, darker way. She had seen things that cast a permanent chill over her heart. She had done things that had changed her as a person forever. But none of these things kept her from smiling as she felt a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around her waist.

"I thought I'd find you here." A voice murmured in her ear. Irina turned to face Jack Bristow, her boyfriend of a year and a half. He smiled at her knowingly. "You always go to the beach when you have something on your mind."

She returned his smile tenderly, leaning into his embrace and resting her head against his chest. "I was hoping you'd come. I missed you." She murmured, closing her eyes. Jack had nearly been buried in work for the past few days, and despite living together, they hadn't seen much of each other.

"Missed you too." Jack said, kissing her forehead. Then he draw away to look at her curiously. "Are you going to tell me what's been bothering you?"

Irina opened her eyes again, and stared at him in the guarded way she had developed. She found it endearing that he could tell when something was troubling her, however much she tried to hide it. But of course, she could never tell him the truth. She could never tell him how she'd been sent to America by the KGB, with the sole purpose of seducing a CIA agent and learning every secret he had to offer. Jack Bristow happened to be that agent.

But she shrugged it off and smiled in spite of her thoughts. "I'm just tired. It's been a long week." To her surprise, Jack guiltily averted his gaze.

"I know," He sighed heavily, "I've been working a lot."

Irina studied him keenly. Jack, she noticed, was always quick to take the blame for his mistakes. He wasn't one to get defensive or make excuses…he was responsible, and she had to admit that she admired him for it.

Despite knowing that she'd eventually have to get around to finding out what the CIA had been keeping him so busy with, Irina allowed her expression to soften. Entwining her fingers with his, she simply replied, "Let's take a walk."

Looking slightly bemused, Jack followed her out onto the sandy shoreline. Irina slipped her shoes off, and he knew to do the same. It was something they did often one the evenings they both had free: walking barefoot along the beach, with the water washing up at their heels.

They walked together for awhile, each caught up in their own thoughts. Then, after a few minutes, Jack broke the silence.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about something…" He said almost nervously. When Irina shot him an inquiring glance, he continued on. "I know we haven't spent a lot of time together lately. I've just…I've been so busy. But I meant it when I said I missed you." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, gauging her reaction. "…I think we should get away from everything for awhile. A vacation, just the two of us." His pitch made, he looked at her in earnest.

There was a short pause as Irina looked up at him in surprise. She considered it for a moment before shaking her head, wearing a sad smile. "You have work, Jack." She knew she didn't need to remind him. "They'd never let you get away."

Jack frowned at this, indignant. "I'm about ready to say 'screw it'. I should be allowed to spend time with my girlfriend!" He growled, and Irina giggled.

"It's okay, you didn't ask for all this work. Your job's important too." She replied as lightly as she could manage. In truth, she was rather surprised at how tempted she had been by his idea. _Hardly professional. _She chided herself.

Jack still looked unsettled. "You shouldn't have to make excuses for me."

Irina gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It'll get easier." She said soothingly. "It always does. Even if it didn't, I'd still be here for you. You know that, right?" She was an expert at this, a master. Supporting Jack, allowing him to look to her for reassurance, set him up to subconsciously depend on her. Which was exactly what the KGB wanted.

Jack nodded, his own expression softening. They walked in their familiar, comfortable silence for a few moments longer. As the sun set, Jack looked out over the water casually. "I can think of one scenario where they'd _have _to let us get away." He mused.

Irina smirked, doubting this. "Oh really? What scenario would that be?" She challenged playfully.

"Our honeymoon."

The moment those two words left Jack's lips, Irina stopped dead. Her mind went blank as she stood there, trying to process what she'd just heard. "…What?"

Eyeing her nervously, Jack turned to face her. She watched in complete, utter shock as he knelt in front of her on the sandy beach ground. "I'm not sure how to say this…" He began, fidgeting with something in his pocket. "I know I should find some extravagant, romantic way of doing this—you deserve to have it spelled out in the sky or written in a full page ad in the newspaper, or something."

"Jack—" Irina began weakly, but Jack held up a hand.

"But I thought here…ever since I've met you, here has been the one place where we could go to be together. Some of the best memories I have are of you and me, here on this beach, just being together. If I could, I'd spend the rest of my life here on this beach with you." Jack murmured to her. "But seeing as that's not an option, I figured we could get at least half of it right." Finally, he pulled his hand out of his pocket to reveal a tiny black box, which he opened to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. "Laura," He whispered, "Will you marry me?"

She couldn't think. She couldn't even _breathe_. All she could do was stare down at him, tearing up like some pathetic, emotional _ditz_. "Oh Jack…" Irina breathed, speaking without really thinking about a word she was saying. "I—you…you…you're pants are getting wet."

Jack looked down only to realize that the ocean waves were repeatedly soaking his pant legs. He looked back up at her with a wry smile. "I'm proposing to you, and you _still _can't think about anything but my pants?" He chuckled lightly.

Irina made a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob. "Jack…"

"Laura?"

When her alias slipped from his lips, Irina was reminded of exactly who she was and what she was supposed to be doing here. It hit her with the force of a speeding train, and it almost made her heart stop. It wasn't the fact that she'd almost agreed to marry him without a second thought that worried her. In fact, her long term assignment _was _to eventually marry Jack. Her KGB handler would be pleased.

What worried her was that her initial reaction hadn't been to mentally give an evil laugh. It had been to burst into tears, and very uncharacteristically. Until seconds ago, she hadn't given the KGB a single damn _thought_. She had been too overwhelmed by the sudden thrill that ran through her body and settled in her heart to remember her mission.

Oh god…she was falling in _love _with this man. And _that _was the very worst possible thing she could have ever done as a trained Russian spy.

She wanted to turn around and run far, far away from here, to hide from the world until she was so numb that she could ensure that nothing like this would ever happen again. But Irina knew that this was an opportunity to further her mission to get closer to Jack. She couldn't pass it up.

So instead, she fell into his arms, water be damned, and kissed him heatedly. "Yes." She murmured between kisses, "Yes, I will!"

They forgot the rest of the world as they sat together in the middle of the tide, locked in their passionate embrace, until at length Jack pulled away to speak. Irina rested her forehead against his as he whispered to her. "I love you."

She smiled helplessly. "I love you, too."

And what frightened Irina most of all, was that that was the truth.


	3. Part 3

**Here's part three. Thank you all so much for the reviews! They really mean a lot!**

_The Time She Fell for a Lie_

It was time. After an eternity of lies and tricks, after marrying Jack Bristow and having their daughter, after learning everything she could about U.S. government secrets, the KGB was going to extract her. And they were going to do it tonight.

Irina looked out the frosted window of the place she had called home for so many years, going over the plan in her mind once again. She was going to get into her car and drive, and, as planned, she would be driven off the road and into the icy depths of a bay. She was going to fake her own death, leave her life in America behind, and return home.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

_This was never meant to last._ Irina told herself, repressing a sigh. _You always knew you'd have to leave someday._

She couldn't continue to grieve like this. Her mission had been completed. She had served her country, and that was her purpose in life. Her resolve set, Irina turned and prepared to walk out the door. Jack was expecting her…he thought he'd be meeting her at a restaurant tonight.

"Have fun, Mrs. Bristow!" Monica, the babysitter they'd hired, chirped from her seat on the couch.

Irina glanced back at her, and forced a tight smile. "Thank you, Monica. Sydney's already asleep, so she shouldn't give you too much trouble. We'll be back around eleven."

"Sounds good." Monica flipped another page in the book she was glued to.

Irina put her hand on the doorknob, and then hesitated for a fraction of a second. She had enough experience as an agent to know when she was being watched. Very slowly, she turned towards the staircase, only to be faced with her six-year-old daughter.

"Mommy?"

"Sydney!" Irina tried to sound exasperated, but didn't quite manage it. "You should be asleep!" Upon closer inspection, she noticed that her daughter was trembling. "What's wrong?"

Sydney seemed unwilling to come closer, as if she still expected to be shouted at. "I _was_ asleep." She said softly. "But then I had a really, really bad dream. Can you please come tell me a story before you leave?"

Irina let out a long sigh. "Why don't you have Monica tell you one, sweetie?" She suggested half-heartedly.

The little girl looked up at her with wide, pleading brown eyes. "Please, Mommy?"

There was something so sad in her daughter's voice that Irina knew she wouldn't be able to refuse. Besides, after tonight, they'd most likely never see each other again. But she willed herself not to think about that. "Alright." Irina caved, approaching the stairs. "Monica? I'll only be a few minutes."

"It's cool." She heard Monica answer as Sydney took her hand and pulled her up the stairs into her bedroom.

"So tell me about this dream." Irina said gently as they settled on the bed.

Sydney buried her face in her mother's arm. "It was bad!" She murmured, her voice muffled. "I was at the playground, and I was having a lot of fun. But then all of my friends left, so I wanted to go too. But you and Daddy weren't there! I looked all around, but I couldn't find you! Nobody wanted to help me look, and pretty soon it got dark…"

Irina stroked her hair reassuringly as she trailed off, evidently close to tears. "It was only a dream, sweetheart. Daddy and I would never leave you." She made this last statement with a trace of guilt that went unnoticed by the six-year-old.

"I know. But it was still scary." Sydney yawned, curling up.

With an affectionate smile, Irina nodded. "So how about that story?"

"Could you tell me a new one?" Sydney asked eagerly.

Irina nodded again. "I know one you'll like. It's kind of like Alice in Wonderland." She said.

Sydney brightened immediately. Alice in Wonderland was one of her favorite stories. "What's it called?"

"It's called the Wizard of Oz." Irina began, watching in amusement as Sydney squirmed eagerly. "It's about a girl named Dorothy, and her dog, Toto. They lived on a farm, but one day a tornado blew their house far, far away. They landed in a place called Oz."

"And there was a wizard there, right?" Sydney prompted.

Irina laughed. "Mmm-hmm, I'm getting to that. So Dorothy and Toto went to Oz, where a beautiful witch named Glinda gave her a pair of magical ruby slippers. But the evil witch who lived in Oz didn't like that, and tried to steal the shoes from Dorothy. But Dorothy made good friends with a Scarecrow, a Tinman, and a cowardly Lion, and together they defeated the witch and went to see the wizard. When Dorothy asked the Wizard to help her get home, she realized that she had the power to go home by herself all along. So she clicked her ruby slippers together three times, and found herself back on her farm. She was so happy to be home that she never took it for granted again." She finished softly.

Sydney was positively beaming at her. "That was the best story _ever_!" She whispered.

Irina grinned. "Besides Alice in Wonderland?"

"Yeah, besides that."

Gazing at her daughter, Irina realized for the umpteenth time that she was so much like her father. She knew that when she left, Jack would take care of Sydney. They'd be alright.

"Ready to go to sleep?" She asked gently.

Sydney stifled another yawn, looking none-too-thrilled about having to go to bed. She didn't protest, however. "I guess. I wish you could stay here with me, though."

Her statement made her mother stiffen. It was only an innocent statement. She knew that Sydney was simply referring to not wanting to be left with the babysitter, but for Irina it took on a whole other meaning. She stared vacantly across the room, searching for an answer. But when she returned her gaze to her daughter, it was only to see that Sydney's eyes were closed.

Irina sighed, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry." She whispered to her sleeping child, silently rising from the bed and making her way over to the door. Framed in the doorway, Irina hesitantly looked back. She realized, now, that she would never really be a mother to the little girl asleep in her bed. She'd never help Sydney learn to read, or comfort her through her first heartbreak, or watch her graduate. How could she have been stupid enough to even imagine doing any of those things?

She had been ordered to live a lie, and Irina had fallen into that lie so completely that she had melded with Laura Bristow, had _become _her. And that was why she had to leave now.

Tearing her gaze away from her daughter with a twinge of pain, Irina closed the door behind her.


	4. Part 4

**Part four! I should warn you guys though, this chapter is much darker than the previous ones. Nothing too graphic, but it does contain themes of torture—it takes place during season four, when Irina was being held prisoner by Elena. Just a heads up.**

_The Time She Fell Apart_

The darkness that surrounded her didn't seem to have an end. But she'd gotten used to it; just sitting there against the wall in the pitch black of the tiny little room. It wasn't the darkness, or the emptiness that bothered her anymore. The worst part now was waiting…

They came every day. Each time, the door was thrown upon, and she was dragged away into an interrogation cell. They would ask her the same questions, over and over. But she never told them anything…and today would be no different.

Light flooded the room, and Irina didn't even have need to look up to know that they were there. There was a heavy shuffling, and then the guards were level with her. They hauled her roughly to her feet, and she nearly cried out in pain. Every nerve in her body felt as if it were on fire, and even the slightest touch left her certain that it would leave a bruise. The guards had no concern for her well-being, however, and shoved her out of the cell without a word.

She longed to fight them, to turn on them, to _hurt _them as they forced her onward. And she had, the first couple of days…or was it weeks? Months? How long had she been here? It felt like an eternity, and now she had no energy left to fight with.

Irina let no word of complaint slip from her as she was forced into a chair, and the binds around her wrists were tightened. She even managed to lift her chin half-defiantly; a vague reminiscence of her once proud and dignified disposition. But she knew that the light was gone from her eyes. She was no threat to her captors.

And then a familiar form stepped forward, smirking upon seeing Irina's dull glare. Elena Derevko drew out a long syringe and fiddled it gently, under the pretense of cleaning the needle. Irina knew it was only meant to strike fear within her.

"Good evening, Irina." Elena said quietly.

Irina's only response was to narrow her eyes, ever so slightly. Elena arched an eyebrow and pretended to look disappointed.

"This would be much easier for you if you allowed yourself to speak with me." Elena gave her a patronizing smile. "Can you imagine how it must hurt me so, doing these things to my little sister?"

Icily, Irina stared at her with an expression of disgust. When she spoke, her voice was so dry and unused that it was barely more than a whisper. "We're both past small-talk, Elena. Do what you must." She answered.

For a moment, Elena looked like she was struggling to feign regret, but she eventually dropped the charade. Her expression went stone cold as she approached slowly, gripped her sister's arm, and plunged the needle in.

It was only a few seconds before Irina felt it: the searing, unimaginable pain that spread like fire through every blood cell. She choked back her cries as the agony nearly blinded her; helpless against the torture she was being subjected to. Elena, for her part, merely watched quietly. Though Irina could no longer truly acknowledge her presence, she knew in the back of her mind: her sister was waiting.

She fought it for as long as she could, but eventually the pain became too great, and she longed for it to end somehow. The last of her energy spent, Irina slipped back into darkness.

-

It didn't take long for Elena to revive her. A shock jumpstarted her heart, and then Irina was gasping for breath, alive, but utterly defeated. She had hovered in this balance between life and death many times before, so that the shock of the incident itself no longer had much effect on her. It was the hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm her that made her cringe each time.

Elena leaned close to her. "We both know you are going to talk, Irina." She purred, her gaze blank and soulless. "And we both know you are going to die. It's only a matter of when…"

As she slumped, bound to the chair, Irina tried to search her broken mind for any shred of light; the tiniest reminder of why she continued to fight for her life. Images flashed before her eyes as if they were real: her whole life, contained in a matter of seconds. _Laura Bristow. KGB. Sloane. Sark, the Covenant, Rambaldi, Nadia, Katya, Elena, the prophecy, Jack…Sydney. _Irina let out a shaking breath. And then, unbidden, a memory came to her from several years ago:

_After a mission, Irina and Jack sat on a CIA airplane, face to face. They were in the midst of one of the first real, honest discussions they'd had in a very long time._

"_I remember the first time you introduced me to Sloane." Irina mused quietly. "You were both working at the CIA. He came to the house for dinner…you were true friends." She gazed at Jack, a question in her eyes._

_He nodded slowly. "Yes. We shared a similar unsentimental patriotism." He agreed, his eyes narrowed as he recalled the past. "…And devotion to our wives. But Sloane changed…and it was Rambaldi that did it. I'm not sure what it is, he never told me. But Sloane has a personal connection to Rambaldi." _

_Irina listened, quietly analyzing his words. "I lived for years with the same obsession." She admitted at last. "To find a higher meaning in Rambaldi's work. I never understood how you managed to avoid getting caught up in it." She told him._

_Jack replied with conviction. "I had something neither of you did." He answered shortly._

_She looked into his eyes, and then she knew. "Sydney." It wasn't even a question, and the look in Jack's eyes confirmed it._

Irina had secretly admired his devotion then, and now she wondered if she could manage to find that same devotion within herself. Jack had resisted so much for the sake of his daughter. Could she fight this for Sydney as well? Could she fight for their family? As she pondered, she almost felt a spark of strength.

But then, Elena had always had a gift for reading her like a book. She smiled coldly down at Irina, but as usual, the smile did not reach her eyes. "I wonder what you think you're fighting for." She murmured. "Or who?"

Irina stared wearily up at her sister. "It should concern you that I'm fighting at all." She hissed through her teeth.

A dark chuckle escaped Elena's lips. She placed a hand on Irina's wrist, a gesture that might have seemed almost comforting—if it weren't for the painful scars there that Elena was deliberately provoking. "See the guards outside this room?" she whispered. "They're no longer here to keep you in. No, I'm afraid that even if I let you walk out of here, you wouldn't get far. Not in your…current state. No, those guards are here to keep others out. Though now that I think about it," Elena paused for vicious effect, "There's really no need for them. No one is going to rescue you, Irina. Not your husband, or your daughter."

Averting her gaze, Irina remained silent.

Elena continued on in an even softer tone. "I've made sure of that."

With a burst of energy she didn't know she had, Irina immediately half-lunged forward. Bound, she was no real threat to Elena, but her eyes were blazing with fury. "What did you do to them?" She demanded unevenly.

Elena drew back, suddenly looking rather bored. "Oh, they're fine. For now…but you see, I've made a few arrangements. They think you've betrayed them, once again. Not really a stretch, is it? They won't bother coming here to rescue you…especially since soon, they'll believe you are dead." As she spoke, Elena walked briskly across the room and refilled the syringe. "Of course, we could easily make that last part a reality." She added.

Irina stared at her, numb with disbelief. How had her own sister managed to destroy things so completely? As much as she tried to fight it, she felt defeat slowly crashing down upon her. She looked down, seething with fury and despair.

"Now," Elena approached her again. "You will tell me everything you know about assembling the Rambaldi device. And you _will _do it soon. Otherwise, it won't just be you who suffers." She gripped Irina's arm again, and smirked, raising the needle again. "I think one more dose should do it."

Irina closed her eyes. She knew now, inevitably, that she was going to break.


	5. Part 5

**Here's the last part! Sorry guys, I know it's a gloomy ending. This was never meant to be a happy story, though. Maybe I'll write an AU alias fic that ends on a better note some time in the future. Any requests on what you'd like to see?**

**Oh, and I know a reviewer pretty much mentioned that season five was utter crap. Yeah, it definitely was, no arguments there. But I think, for this story, this ending fits the best—and I really wanted to show this scene from Irina's point of view. **

**--**

"Why are you fighting me on this?"

Irina lay on the ground beside her daughter, wincing slightly as the broken glass around her jabbed her every time she moved. So much time had passed since she'd been Elena's prisoner, and Sydney and Nadia rescuing her seemed like another lifetime. When her eldest daughter had jumped down into that cell and helped her up, Irina had never imagined that it would ever come to this.

"The defense satellites are destroyed." She continued, as bluntly as she could. If Sydney would just realize that there was no hope left, maybe she would just leave—maybe she would walk away from all of this at last. But even as Irina hoped, she knew it was foolish. Her daughter was extremely stubborn. And she was backing Irina into a corner.

She watched as the blazes of light streaked across the sky, marking the paths of the falling satellites. In a twisted way, it was almost beautiful.

"The stars will fall from the sky…" quoted Sydney in a murmur, almost transfixed by the sight.

Out of the corner of her eye, Irina glanced at her. _Please, Sydney. Just go home. You're in over your head. _"Even if you manage to beat me on this rooftop…it's still too late to stop the launch." _Too late. Too late to fix this, or anything else. I can't go back now. I've hurt too many people._

But, as expected, Sydney turned to stare at her mother, defiance blazing in her brown eyes. "You think I came here alone?" She challenged.

No, Irina hadn't thought she'd come alone. But she'd hoped. She'd so desperately hoped to find a way—any way, to avoid this terrible decision. How did you choose between your one dream; your very reason for being alive, and your own daughter?

But the thing was, Irina had already chosen long ago. She'd even told Sydney this: she'd chosen to be a spy over a mother. She'd left her family in pursuit of her Rambaldi-related ambitions. She'd done terrible, terrible things to reach this moment. If she turned back now, then that would mean that all of that had been for nothing.

Truth be told, Irina was afraid. Afraid of being wrong, afraid of losing the meaning of everything she believed in. She had no choice. As she struggled to her feet, Irina tried to convey her regret in her gaze, even as her very words denied it.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to be such a complication in my life any longer." Irina gritted out as Sydney, too, attempted to get up. Pushing aside all hesitation, she dealt a vicious kick that sent her daughter hurtling into a nearby wall. She told herself desperately that if she just made this one sacrifice, however painful, that everything would finally make sense. Rambaldi's mysteries would be revealed, the Horizon would be hers, and she would get everything she'd ever wanted…wouldn't she?

Stepping forward, Irina nearly choked on her next words. "For whatever it's worth," She added, "I truly do love you." She knew, deep down, that this could never make up for everything she'd done, and what she was doing now. It sounded almost pathetic to make such a confession at this moment, but for whatever reason, selfish or otherwise, Irina _needed_ this to be the last thing Sydney would hear from her.

She felt sick as she slammed her daughter to the ground once again. _I have no choice. _Her mind repeated desperately. _I have no choice, Sydney. Can't you see that?_

Sydney was weakening; was barely able to get herself off the ground. It was now or never. Irina advanced slowly…and then, unbidden, an image of the six-year-old daughter she'd once told stories too so many years ago flashed before her eyes. She hesitated, just for a second.

It was a fatal mistake. Sydney lashed out suddenly, kicking her mother in the ribs and causing her to stumble back. Before Irina could react, her daughter had kicked her again with even more force, this time sending her hurtling onto the thin glass skylight.

For a moment, Irina could do nothing but lay there in shock. And then, she heard it: the high-pitched, crackling sound of breaking glass. She knew in that moment that the skylight was going to give.

Sydney seemed to realize this at the same moment, because she said, "The glass won't hold you." Irina looked down hesitantly, and saw the floor such a long, long way below her. There was no way she'd survive a fall like that. "Mom, you need to come back." Sydney was calling.

Wincing, Irina attempted to move, but even the slight shift of weight caused the glass to crack even more. She took a deep breath, and looked up…and then she saw it. The Horizon. It was just sitting there, a few feet away on the skylight. It was so tempting…she could reach out and grab it now.

"Mom," Sydney was flat out pleading now. "You can make it, give me your hand!"

Slowly, Irina looked back at her, and it was then that she realized: she _did _have a choice. She'd always had one. But telling herself that she didn't was easier than admitting that she did have a choice, and was making the wrong one.

She'd _chosen_ to join the KGB(she knew that if she could have seen what she would have become back then, she would have been disgusted with herself.) She'd _chosen _to break Jack's heart, even though she truly loved him. She'd _chosen _to betray everyone she loved, again and again…and just now, she had actually _chosen _to attempt to murder her daughter. And for what?

For what? The tiny artifact that was now so easily within her reach? The thing she'd pursued for as long as she could remember?...Why, though? Would immortality really make her happy? The only times in her life Irina could remember actually being truly happy were the moments spent with her family. But she'd thrown them all away for something she had believed to be more promising.

Irina had heard before that seconds before death takes you, you realize some great truth or purpose to your life. It was ironically cruel that this happened only when it was too late to change anything.

She looked back at her daughter, who had changed so much from the little girl she'd once been. Sydney was now a grown woman with a daughter of her own, a strong, intelligent person, and a credit to her country. Irina remembered what had first driven her to join the KGB. It had been the longing she'd felt to serve her own country. To become a hero.

Sydney had been able to do everything Irina couldn't. And Irina realized, now, how proud she was of this.

"I'm sorry, Sydney." She whispered, and this time she meant it with all her heart. Irina turned slowly, and reached out for the Horizon. It would be an ironic finish for her, to die holding what she thought she wanted most. She grasped the artifact tightly, even as the glass beneath her finally shattered.

And then Irina was falling again.


End file.
